Drunken Admittances
by S. A. Arkenburgh
Summary: After the ball, Elena gets drunk and confronts the Salvatore Brothers.


After tonight's dangerous liaisons that would most likely precede the upcoming events for the next few months, if not years or the rest of her life, Elena decided that she'd caused enough damage to others for one night, and concluded that maybe she deserved what she had received.

Stefan had left her heart re-broken in places where she tried to mend it, and this time - thanks to her own frustration and stupidity - there was no Damon to help her put any pieces back together. She'd put her heart on the table in front of him, and he'd just brushed it off into the trash can.

Not being able to take the pain of it all anymore, Elena slipped out of her dress and into a pair of cotton athletic shorts along with a matching white tank.

Tears following Stefan's departure streamed down her face, and she'd liked to have thought that her body was just trying to help her wash her makeup off, but she knew better than that.

The worst part was that she didn't know exactly what she was crying over. It could've been the fact that she'd unmistakably shot Damon down during one of his most vulnerable times, that she herself had been shot down by _Stefan_ during one of _her _most vulnerable times, or that her finger still hurt from where Esther jabbed it in order to take down Klaus and his "abominations" that he called siblings.

It did occur to her that if Esther's kids were an abomination, then she most likely meant that all vampires in general were the same way, but she was so wrong.

Any woman who could kill all of her children was obviously off her rocker, no matter what they were or claimed to be.

"You've screwed up big time, Elena," she kept mumbling to herself as she drug her feet down the stairs to get into Alaric's alcohol stash. She thought it a blessing to find that he just bought a fresh batch of everything available at the store he shopped at.

Her eyes didn't linger much. Instead, she grabbed the first full, unopened bottle she'd put her hands on.

"Jaeger" read the label.

"Awesome," she sighed as she removed the top and took a large swig.

The thought of possibly pouring herself a glass and putting the rest back crossed her mind, but it was quickly shooed away by the thought of the recent events. That would've been the more responsible thing to do considering the fact that she wasn't old enough to drink anything alcoholic yet, but she just kept replaying the painful memories she wanted to forget.

"_Well maybe that's the problem, then_," she'd said to shatter any self-esteem, love, and compassion that Damon worked so hard to build up. She didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, but it's not like he'd believe that. Damon always seemed to view the "glass half full" unless he _saw _somebody drink it to _make _it half empty. This was one of those times where it was full and she'd came along, took a big gulp, and set it back down right in front of him.

Karma never fails, though, for Stefan just killed any hope she had for them right on the spot of saying that if he cared, all he'd feel was pain.

Everything felt depressing and miserable, which is why she figured any hope for a solution would be at the bottom of the bottle in her hand.

When she'd consumed half of the whiskey, she'd decided that no matter how hard she tried, she wasn't getting those memories to fade from her mind unless she confronted the other two parties in the situation.

The better option would've been to take her butt straight to bed, but whiskey is a major judgment-clouder.

Doing the unthinkable, Elena grabbed her keys after she put on her shoes, and stumbled out to her car with the bottle in her hand.

Remembering the drive to the boardinghouse was a challenge all in itself and some would be surprised that Elena even got there without driving off into the ditch or being pulled over by the police, but it was near two in the morning, and this little town rolled up their sidewalks no later than ten.

Elena parked vertically in the Salvatores' horizontal driveway, and she even unknowingly took out their mailbox in the process, but she didn't much care.

While staggering to the porch with her bottle in hand, Elena opened the door to the building and stepped in while almost tripping over her own two feet.

"Elena!" Stefan said strongly as he closed the diary he was writing in and stood up straight.

"Making another one?" she asked as she gestured to it with the same hand her bottle was in. "Are you dating it as "2012" or "The Time I Played With Elena's Heart and Broke It"?"

"How'd you get here?" he asked as he tried approaching her.

"You stay _right there_, sir!" she slurred. "I drove here. How else would I get here?"

"Elena, you're drunk," he noted.

"Why, thank you, Captain Obvious," she laughed and took another swig of her near-empty bottle. "Where's Damon? I have something to say, and I'm only going to say it once, so you both need to be out here."

Stefan rubbed his forehead in aggravation, but headed off into the direction of Damon's room.

Soon enough, Damon came out in an unbuckled pair of dress pants, showing a bit of boxer and dark hair under his bellybutton. Elena giggled to herself and then let out a hiccup.

"Oh, geez, Elena," Damon said with a scrunched up face. "You're head is swimming. I can smell the alcohol from here."

"Duh," she giggled obnoxiously as she held up her bottle and wiggled it around. "I figured you'd be drunk, too."

"I was," he said, "but the buzz wears off within minutes unless I keep drinking."

"Right," she laughed for no apparent reason. "The whole healing process makes you sober again quickly. Why did you stop drinking? Did you find a desperate drunk female to do?"

"Yup," he said without shame.

That comment hit her.

"Ouch," she said as she held a hand to her heart. "That hurts. I guess I know how you feel then. I hope she was good, because you deserve the best."

Elena put on a disgusted face and Damon smirked at her negatively.

"I'm here to clear my head and tell you how I feel," she said. "Now, I'm really hoping that you'll forget all about the secrets I'm going to tell you, because I'll forget telling you by tomorrow…or later today, whatever the case may be."

"We're listening," Stefan said with an irritated grin.

Elena took the last gulp of her drink and threw the bottle at Stefan who caught it effortlessly.

"You," she began as she approached him and stuck out an accusing index finger, "are a total d-bag now that you've come back from Klaus! You don't care, you don't want to care, and you _refuse _to care! That's the worst part, because I was willing to work with you to getting back to where we were. I can't believe you. Yet, you still claim to love me? Two words, Stefan: Bullshit!"

He didn't say a word, but just looked at her like she was talking stupid.

"Then there's _you_!" she said as she turned to Damon. "You have no idea what it's like to want to care, but can't because guilt seeps through you at a rate uncontrollable. You see, Damon? I like you, and I care about you. Hell, I love you, but I can't feel that way because I love Stefan, too! I'm sick of feeling guilt! You don't know what it's like to love both brothers. I feel like a slutty, two-timing, whore! I can't stand it. You are so overprotective, yet a sarcastic badass at the same time. I want to care openly for you and kiss you and tackle you and remove your clothes right where you stand. There are a number of reasons I can't do that. One: I'm too freaking drunk to even walk straight, let alone tackle anybody. Two: You just screwed some chick from a bar as you've said, and three: I feel guilty that I don't love Stefan enough to do that. It sucks!"

She then turned to look at both speechless brothers.

"Thus, I've come to a conclusion that I will be with neither of you," she said, "because I can't choose."

"Elena," Damon said with saddened eyes.

"Shut up, Damon," she said. "I am sorry about what I said earlier, and I didn't mean for it to come out like that, but I can't play these games anymore."

"Stop, Elena," Stefan said.

"You might as well give me fangs and call me Katherine by the way I've been acting," she sobbed and cried with tears like waterfalls.

"No," both brothers said in unison.

"Well," she sniffled, "if you want to talk to me, then I'll be at home hugging the toilet."

She turned to walk out and Damon stopped her, "You aren't going anywhere in this condition."

Elena didn't fight him, because she was a bit too busy fighting the sleep that was trying to take her.

She just stood there and blankly stared at his chest with a bland facial expression.

"You can have her, Damon," he heard Stefan say as he went back to writing in his journal. She was right, he really didn't care!

Damon just sighed and shook his head before picking her up gently and carrying her to one of the spare bedrooms.

He even tucked her in and put a bucket beside her bed for the future hangover she'd have within the next few hours.

"Goodnight, Elena," he said to her as he kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight, Damon," she replied in slurs. "I am really sorry."

"I know," he soothed. "You just get some sleep and I'll see you soon."

He began to head for the doorway.

"I love you, Damon," he heard her mumble as he turned around.

"I know," he smiled to himself. "I love you, too, Elena."

With that, he closed her door, went downstairs, and kicked Rebekah out.


End file.
